Taming Romeo (16 page)

His eyes are dark and beady, narrowed, but he shakes his head. “No, I’m trying to figure you out. Why did you leave? The truth.”

I’m plastered to the sheets, unable to move, my emotions drained, my heart hollow. The truth. It’s ugly, juvenile, unforgivable. But if I want a shred of a chance with him, I have to give it to him. Ninety-nine percent probability he’ll turn his back and walk away.

Tentatively, I reach for his hand. He grasps it lightly and stares at me, unblinking.

I lick my lips and swallow, willing my voice to be strong. “I was too young to settle down, and I met someone I liked better. I was too scared to tell you because I didn’t want to hurt you. No, that’s a lie. I ran because I didn’t want to lose you. I wanted to think you were always there in the background. Someone I could turn to when I needed a friend. As long as I didn’t give you closure, I could have someone to hold onto.”

“And now he’s doing this to you. Ignoring your messages, not giving you closure. He hasn’t let go, and you are still waiting for him.” Romeo’s voice is hard and edgy. “Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?”

“Does this amuse you?”

“No, seeing you in pain doesn’t amuse me.” He feathers a finger over my temple. “I suspected something like this. Your backup plan. Someone to fall back on when the big bad world turns on you and bites you. I don’t like it, but I’m glad your father confirmed it.”

“Yes, dear old dad. Sometimes I think he cares about you more than me.”

“Somebody has to give me fatherly advice.” He reaches over and pulls my dress over my boobs. “So, where do we go from here?”

I clutch the front of my dress, worrying it between my fingers. If I back away now, I might have a chance to save my sanity, go back to my miserable existence and wait for Eric to get over his cold feet. But I’ll also lose Romeo forever. No backup, no friendship, no boy to come home to. I’ll be setting him free. It’s the honorable thing to do.

He lays his head on one of the king size pillows and cradles it, his eyes intent, but calm.

“What do you intend to do?” I crawl to his side, my dress shielding my breasts.

A grin slowly stretches his face. “I’m going to show you what you’re going to miss for the rest of your comfortable life. I’m going to completely and utterly ruin you for Eric and any other man who thinks he’s going to fulfill your dreams. Say the word, Evie, and I’ll make you forget how you can possibly exist without me.”

“Arrogant, aren’t you? And what if I tell you to walk?”

He flexes his arms and puts his hands behind his head, looking up at the ceiling. “I think you already know what you’ll be walking away from.”

I suck in a breath and almost choke. Does he really think I’m such a sex freak? That lust drives my decisions? This is exactly why I cooled off from him. Even though he never officially took my virginity, he just about drove me insane by kissing and petting. How would I have ever concentrated on my studies knowing he’d be waiting for me in between classes, or subjecting me to an all night love fest right before an important exam?

“There’s more to life than physical pleasure.” I’m glad he’s taken the low road, because the haze of lust clears, somewhat. I hold up my braless dress and turn my back to him. “Zip me up?”

“Much obliged.” He glides his hands on my bare back, and I almost lean back into him. “Care to take a walk with me through the gallery?”

“Huh? What?” I’m so groggy from the combination of
sake
, emotions, and hormones that it takes a minute for me to register.

“Frederic Remington, western artist. Some of his works are on loan downstairs.”

“Oh, I’m kind of tired, I thought…”

“I understand.” He pats the bed and gets up onto his feet. “I always admired the vitality of his art, the sense of motion straining to be freed.”

He grabs his leather jacket and pulls it on, then points to the second bed with his chin. “I won’t disturb you.”

I half-expect him to entreat me again, to cajole me into joining him like he always does. But the door thuds with finality. I’ve been playing with him too long. I’m on my final life, health points dropping fast, no more ammunition. Game almost over.

An inner voice cries, dying, and I slip on my heels. Romeo Rey Villanueva García. This isn’t over. Not by a long shot. We will never be over.

I spot him at the far side of the gallery, standing in front of a painting of panicked horses fleeing from a battle. Two of the riders are shooting at pursuers while the others barely hang onto their mounts.

Slowly I glide toward him, quietly so he doesn’t hear me, but when I get within arm’s length, he stretches his left arm back and wiggles his fingers. I take his hand and fold myself into his embrace.

Wordlessly, we move through the exhibit, the energy and intensity palpable. The struggle for the American West, victory and defeat, drama and daring, always on the move, the indomitable American spirit.

Art is emotion. Emotion evoked without words. Music, too, stirs the chords within the soul. The strains of Saint-Saens’ “Rondò Capriccioso” wind through my inner ear as we meander our way back to the room.

Romeo hasn’t spoken and neither have I. The silence seems too sacred, too hard won to break. He shuts the door and leaves the lights off. His dark eyes shimmer in the scant moonlight. He draws me close, our breathes mingling, but not touching. The question mark in his eyes deserves an honest answer, a pledge.

I slip my hand under his collar and caress the back of his neck. Tilting my head, I tiptoe and press a single kiss over his lips. I’ve made my decision.

A smile graces his lips, and I nod to let him know I’ve chosen him. Now, I intend to show him exactly what he’ll miss if he ever walks away from me.

I loosen his tie, then slip it off his neck and wrap it around my wrist. Starting at the collar, I unbutton his shirt, and slowly and deliberately drop it to the floor. My fingers spread across his chest, lightly scratching him with my nails as I latch onto his neck and suck.

A growl issues from his throat and he clutches my waist. I press his hands together and wind the tie around his wrists. He huffs, but I press a finger to his mouth and shake my head. No words, nothing. It’s my turn to teach him a lesson he’ll never walk away from.

Firmly, I guide him so he’s stepping back to the bed. I shove and he falls hard onto it. Pouncing on top of him, I raise his hands over his head and spread my legs on both sides of his shoulders.

His eyes pop when he realizes I’m not wearing panties. He wets his mouth and lifts his head toward my crotch, but I push him down with a palm heel to the forehead. Taking my time, I circle my hips, my juices slicking his shoulders, chest, and abdomen, until he’s squirming and moaning under me.

He sighs in relief when I land on his raging erection.

“Please, Evie,” he groans.

I wag my finger and mouth ‘no talking,’ then punish him with a time out. No movement, no kisses, not a touch. It doesn’t last but a minute before I unbuckle his belt. He moans in relief as I unzip his pants. Eagerly he raises his hips and helps me kick off his pants. His huge cock peeks from the waistband of his briefs.

The tip is glistening and my body responds with a gush of wetness. I exaggeratedly lick my lips and make kissing motions around his cock.

Romeo hits his head against the pillow, shuddering and frustrated, but good boy, he keeps his hands raised and clutches the headboard.

Using my teeth, I remove his briefs very inefficiently, to his utter torture. His hips roll and he jerks trying to make contact, but I can be really cruel. As soon as his cock pops free, I cup his balls, drawing out a long satisfying moan. Slowly, I pull back his foreskin and blow on the head. He sucks his breath in and his balls tense, quivering with desperate need.

“Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?”

I lower my head.

Wednesday morning, my body’s still sore from the acting and Romeo activities, but I drag myself to work after knocking back a jumbo mug of coffee.

Carlos greets me at the back door. “You need a partner to chaperone Genie at the prom?”

“Oh, I forgot. It’s this Friday, isn’t it?”

“Yep. I heard she doesn’t want to go with Romeo anymore.” He wipes his hands with a dish towel. “So what’s been going on with you two?”

I’m not in a mood to chit chat. My parents are upset I stayed in a hotel with Romeo. I still need to have that heart to heart with Genie, and Choco? Well, funny thing. Choco has been too quiet lately. Hope she’s not sick.

I grab a bottle of water from the fridge. “Romeo and I are friends. We’ve decided to enjoy each other while we’re both in town.”

“He’s cool with that?”

“Yep, he’s a big shot actor. He’s cool.” I take a swig of water and recap it. “Gotta set up the
bangus
room. Make sure you hold a plate of
lechón kawali
for Mr. Dee.”

“You betcha.” He grins and goes back into the kitchen, yelling at his assistants.

I finish the water bottle and saunter to the
bangus
room. I set out the napkin holders and place settings, tucking a fresh daylily blossom on each table. The atmosphere is bright and cheerful. Sunlight streams through the open windows and I can see the stadium backdropped against the cloudy blue sky.

The Sunshine bus toots its horn and double parks on the city street. I rush to the door and open it.

Mr. Dee is the first one off the bus, but he gallantly stands by the step and helps each of the Sunshine ladies disembark. They flitter and twitter, laughing gaily at his jokes.

“We’re all ordering
lechón kawali
,” Tita Thelma says.

Tita Clare thumps the table. “Better have enough, or there’s going to be a food fight.”

Mr. Dee pulls the chairs for each of the ladies. They all want his attention, saying he’s a big movie star, and asking if he can get them in on the next act.

A middle-aged man enters after everyone is seated and Mr. Dee introduces him as his son, Alfredo.

Alfredo gives me the once over and smirks. “You’re the waitress who gave away Tatay’s
lechón
.”

I mock bow and smile. “Yours truly, but don’t worry, we ordered extra pork belly today.”

Everyone cheers. I pass out the menus and go around the table, dutifully hugging everyone and asking after their grandchildren. After taking drink orders, I turn toward the kitchen and run into Romeo. He’s carrying a guitar.

“Hey, fancy bumping into you here.” He grins and leans down for a kiss.

“How come you never text or call me?” I rib him. This has become a standard greeting for us, since we both decided to not call or text while we’re in the same town.

“I know where to find you, cookie. You’re too available.” He pinches my behind.

The oldsters whoop and laugh. Of course, flirt that he is, Romeo goes around the table and kisses each of the Sunshine ladies on the cheek, then takes a seat between Mr. Dee and his son.

“Lunch is on me,” he calls before strumming his guitar and taking song requests.

Shaking my head, I leave the
bangus
room to put in the orders and prepare the drinks: bubble tea, Thai tea,
calamansi
smoothies,
matcha
green tea, mango juice, soda, milk shakes and more. Happiness bubbles over me as I work mixing the drinks.

It only occurred to me this morning that it’s been a while since I woke with anxiety. Now, I’m waking up refreshed and calm. No more rapid heartbeat, cold sweats and feeling of impending doom. I’m also going for a run before breakfast. In fact, I haven’t even texted Eric for who knows how long.

Balancing the drinks on a tray, I walk back to the
bangus
room. Romeo is singing Filipino folk songs and the oldsters are singing along. Alfredo, however, is working on his smartphone, no doubt unable to relax even for lunch. I wonder what he does for a living. Strange how Mr. Dee never mentioned him before. But then, he’s too polite and the ladies are forever chattering about their children and grandchildren.

I have no time to gawk. After passing out the drinks, I quickly refill the baskets of rolls and serve the salads. The front door bangs and Genie saunters in with a blond boy holding a skateboard.

“Shouldn’t you be in school?” I ask her.

“Minimum day. We had graduation practice in the morning. This is Greg, my prom date.” She tilts her head at the boy.

He’s tall, over six-feet, with a sunburned nose. He greets me with a ‘hey,’ and follows Genie to the corner booth.

Rude. I slap menus on the table, although I’m sure Genie won’t need one. I doubt skate dude’s going to pay for her meal either.

I tap Romeo and gesture at the two teenagers. “That scruffy guy thinks he’s going to the prom with Genie. Are you going to let him?”

“Sure, why not? Gets me off the hook.”

I pinch his arm. “I don’t trust him with my sister. Why don’t you go over there and say something?”

Romeo whistles long and low. “You hate it when Choco and your parents do it to you, but now you’re getting overprotective of Genie. Weren’t you the one upset when she was going with me?”

“That was before I knew it was a setup to keep her safe.”

I notice all the senior citizens are watching us with great amusement.

“You should let young love take its course,” Tita Clare says.

“They look cute together,” Tita Grace interjects. “Awww…”

Romeo purses his lips and tips his head. “Listen to your elders, Evie. Let them be. Meanwhile, me and you can be chaperones and sneak away.”

“That’s right.” I slap his back so hard he coughs. “We’re the chaperones. We’ll stick to them like flies on flypaper.”

“Yuck.” Romeo chuckles. “Can’t you think of something more appealing?”

The Sunshine ladies add their quips, panties on hose, garlic on rice, wax on pubic hair. What the heck? Tita Grace is choking on her water, laughing.

Silly peeps. Shaking my head, I escape the
bangus
room for the insanity of the kitchen.

The noise level is deafening. Carlos screams at the top of his lungs, abusing a new hire who spilled an entire batch of
lumpia
onto the floor. Another assistant is deep frying the
lechón
.